


Seek Understanding

by Warpony



Series: Feral Echoes [13]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Bazzoxan, Behir, Blue Dragon - Freeform, Canon Divergence, Drow, Gen, Hinted Character Death, Military, Soldiers, Umbra Gates, revivify
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warpony/pseuds/Warpony
Summary: Verin Thelyss doesn't quite know what to make of the newest recruit....* * * * *Part of a larger WIP involving a D&D Original Character and the Critical Role Mighty Nein
Series: Feral Echoes [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1711534
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Seek Understanding

When Verin led the small patrol party into the Penumbras that early morning he wasn't surprised by the lack of interest. Despite their number including the largest of their new recruits leading the patrol next to one of the more seasoned soldiers.

They certainly made up for the unceremonious departure when they came limping tiredly back well past midnight dragging the stinking, decapitated head of an adult behir, all of them covered in gore and scorched by electricity and more than half of their number exhausted from being revived from death. Verin himself included.

The barracks practically emptied to watch the strange parade, close friends and partners of the patrol rushing up to collect the weary soldiers. Verin had to admit some small pride that no one abandoned their posts, staying put and looking on from a distance but to disciplined and well trained to leave their assignments for a spectacle.

By the time Verin made his way to the officer's barracks it took a moment for him to realize that the new recruit was still behind him.

Even the behir head had been hauled off, probably to be scraped clean of meat and teeth.

Verin looked up towards the firbolg recruit. His eyes were cast down and ears pinned back, waiting. No one else in the outpost had come to collect him or steer him away. He stood, dripping gore and grime and his own blood with a heavy double axe over his shoulder. No one had come to fetch him or check on him as the others had. This behemoth of a fighter that had charged a behir fearlessly with no magic and an axe seemed to be utterly alone.

It took the Taskhand far longer than he'd like to admit to realize that the silent soldier was waiting to be dismissed.

"Recruit... remind me what's your name again?" He asked quietly, a little ashamed he couldn't recall the firbolg's name. He'd saved Verin's life... the lives of most of the party.

Even if Revivify wasn't something often done in Xhorhas.

"Brunnera." The firbolg said quitely, not lifting his eyes or head. Their height difference made it odd. If he chose Verin only had to take a step closer to meet his eyes again.

"You did admirably today, Brunnera. I and the rest of the patrol are grateful. I'll see that your diamonds are replaced." The Echo Knight's eyes tracked to the copper bracer around the fighter's arm.

Brunnera's ears pinned back further and he didn't speak. Verin cocked his head, eyes dipping to look towards the anxious coil of his tail behind the fighter.

"There something you want to say, soldier?" Verin prompted, eyes casting around briefly to make sure they were alone. Not all the officers were so keen to let lower rank soldiers speak their mind. Even if Verin did and was the commander of Bazzoxan and its forces.

"They were.... going to leave.... all... all of you dead..." The firbolg ground out, his eyes finally coming up, cerulean blue as his cropped hair and tail plume. "... why?"

Verin blinked; of all things he did not expect that, he wasn't sure exactly what to say. "Death is inevitability. We accept it when it comes-"

When Verin looked up he was shocked into silence by the look of horror and disgust on the firbolg's face. Just as quickly Brunnera looked away.

"Recruit-"

"You give up... to easy..." Brunnera muttered quietly.

That touched a nerve that the normally good natured and humored Taskhand was far too tired to chase. He wanted a bath and rest desperately. Hardening a little he spoke sharply as he turned towards the officers quarters. "Dismissed, recruit."

By the sound of it and a guilty glance over Verin's shoulder confirmed the firbolg fighter had not hesitated to fall out and stalk away.

Verin indulged himself a bit with a bath of nearly scalding hot water, trying to scrub away the lingering feeling of death that was making his skin prickle. The knight attempted to trance but failed miserably, it had never been his forte. His attempt to sleep failed just as poorly. He tossed and turned. Brunnera's words and face kept coming back, making him bristle at times and hover in confusion at others.

The Taskhand rolled out of bed exhausted and restless. Leaving his Echo Knight armor behind the drow struck out across the grounds of the outpost in the gray, pre-dawn light. Soldiers and officers and town locals paused to greet him or salute. Verin would smile softly and wave them on as he continued to wander, weaving in and out of buildings and performing a kind of informal patrol around the outpost. 

It wasn’t uncommon for the Taskhand to wander around Bazzoxan even when he wasn’t strictly on duty. Verin preferred to keep a hand on the pulse of the town he’d been given charge of and very quickly the Aurora Watch and townsfolk had not only come to expect it but depend on it. Without his armor and surrounded by officers the common people and soldiers felt more at ease and safer to approach him with their troubles and concerns. All of which he addressed with thoughtful and expedient solutions no matter the issue. Often taking a first hand approach in the resolution himself. The knight certainly wasn’t above helping with a broken fence or wheelbarrow any more than he was dealing with monstrosities and fiends that might have slipped the Gates.

It was how Verin had earned the reputation of being a fair, honorable and dependable leader and someone that actually gave a damn about those around him. The drow was humbly proud of that reputation. He'd earned it without thinking or trying; only doing what he felt was right. 

It might be why the firbolg recruit’s troubling question and reactions the evening before rankled him so greatly. That or perhaps if Verin would allow himself to admit it, he disliked not being understood.

The sound of a weapon striking and thudding against some object had the knight instinctively steering himself in towards the sounds, cutting his way passed the structures of the townsfolk and towards the permanent barrack buildings where Aurora Watch soldiers were stirring in preparation to relieve the overnight detail and beyond to one of the training grounds just outside of the barracks.

A stand of dead, iron wood trees had been stripped but left rooted in the earth. Their remains, thick trunks and sawed off branches, offering soldiers the scenario of being surrounded by other soldiers and enemies. A few of the trunks were marked with scraped and faded colored chalk or paint, marking each tree as foe or friend at one time or another for different drills.

Amid the scarred and battered trees the object of his disquiet was sparring alone among the iron woods. The double headed axe was a whirling blur as the firbolg moved, struck a tree, moved again and struck again. He was dressed only in short breeches, the copper bracer on his arm and the heavy black collar around his throat.

Verin stayed back a bit, observing. He was a little surprised honestly. He’d promised all that had been in the patrol party the day off after the incident with the behir, take time to breathe and recuperate. Yet here was the recruit working himself into a lather before the sun was even up.

Verin had recognized him, from that night a few weeks back. The fighter from the adventuring party. But just barely. How ever he’d found himself enlisted in the Aurora Watch the firbolg seemed truly withdrawn. What must have been a very impressive fall of cerulean hair and thick mane had been shorn short at the Nimbus Keep for the first weeks of training. Every Aurora Watch soldier went through the same, Verin remembered his own hair being cut what felt like brutally short at the time. 

The firbolg fighter had arrived in Bazzoxan little over a day ago, with no fan far, seemingly cold and distant, and with a reputation of defiance and belligerence. Apparently more than one of the officers at the Nimbus Keep had come to blows with the firbolg and found themselves bested.

In less than thirty six hours this supposedly rebellious recruit had volunteered to take point on his first patrol, fronted the defense against behir, saved five officer’s lives and now when he was given leave to rest and sleep was up before the sun training alone.

Brunnera’s bay roan fur was matted with sweat and flecked with splinters from the axe striking the iron wood trees, the electricity scorched patch of flesh on the firbolg's flank was layered with a salve but most of it had sloughed off from sweat and movement, leaving half healed burns behind. 

The fighter brought the axe swinging around with titantic force and sunk it deep into the trunk of an iron wood. The fighter's movement came to a halt when the blade stayed wedged and defied Brunnera's attempt to yank it free again. 

The firbolg grumbled and started the laborious duty of getting the axe free. Verin couldn't help a small smile as he slowly approached, making a bit of noise to make sure he was noticed. 

The firbolg's ear flicked back towards him before a glance over the shoulder. Brunnera let go of the axe and turned to face Verin. The fighter's chest was heaving a bit but he took up a parade rest stance dutifully. 

"I can't say the tree won. It would have definitely died from that strike. Stuck blade or not." Verin offered. 

Brunnera hummed, "Hate axes...."

Verin smiled gently. "I must say you're terribly effective with one. C'mon. I'll help you get it loose."

Brunnera hesitated then moved to follow the knight. Standing on either side of the axe handle they pushed and pulled, slowly extracting the weapon. 

"We're not suicidal." Verin said between grunts. "Thats not what I meant last night. I only meant that death is a part of the cycle of rebirth we believe in... not that we seek it out by any means... well not usually, there's some exceptions... when death comes to us its believed that we've learned all the lessons this life can teach us and we're ready to move on-"

They gave a great heave and the axe wrenched free with a squeal, Verin stumbled backwards but Brunnera's hand snapped out to catch his arm and hauled Verin out of the way as the axe clattered to the earth. 

The firbolg gently made sure Verin was firmly on his feet again before letting go. The Echo Knight dusted his hands together, "Thank you, Brunnera."

Brunnera hummed. A silence hung between between them before the firbolg chuffed again, trying to catch his attention. Verin twisted to look up at him. 

The fighter was watching him, ears up and face expectant. 

Verin stumbled a bit, "... what?"

"Go on." Brunnera prompted. 

"Go...? You were listening?" Verin asked, looking genuinely stunned. 

The fighter cocked on ear at a different angle, brow furrowing in confusion. "Why... why wouldn't I?"

Verin studied the fighter, "Not many people just... listen... to me. Unless its orders or strategies or solving their problems. I'm Taskhand Thelyss. They listen to Taskhand Thelyss."

"Who were... you just now?" Brunnera prompted. 

"... I suppose I was Verin." Not particularly liking to have trapped himself with his own reasoning. 

"Don't mind... listening to him..." Brunnera stooped to pick up the axe. He winced slightly as his side pulled. Verin's brown dipped unhappily. 

"You need to get that seen to again, I think." The knight urged. 

The firbolg fighter chuffed, looking a little mischievous, "Was that... Taskhand... or Verin?"

The drow's pale eyebrow went up, honey colored eyes lighting up a bit. "Do I have to guess which one you'd be mostly likely to listen to?"

Brunnera shrugged but for the first time since coming to the outpost of Bazzoxan Verin saw a bit of warmth in the firbolg's eyes and a small pull to his lips. He twisted to look down at his scorched side then back up at the drow. "The blue dragon was... was much worse..." 

One of Brunnera's hands lifted a touched a spot on his shoulder, the fur laid flat with sweat, made visible a jagged line of scarring that looked a bit like lightning streaking across his shoulder and part of his chest.

"I'm sorry, did you say 'blue dragon'?" Verin asked sharply. 

Brunnera nodded and Verin narrowed his eyes at him, but the firbolg didn't seem keen to go on any further.

"I see... well... since we're both technically on rest today let's say it was Verin. And that he'll help you get that cleaned up-" 

"Only if he... goes on... from earlier... I want to understand..." The fighter bargained. 

Verin turned to face him, he gave a jerk of his head, encouraging Brunnera to go on. The firbolg huffed, ears flicking. 

"I am here... I stand for Dynasty now... but I do not understand it... I would like to..." The firbolg crinkled his muzzle a bit. 

Verin studied the firbolg for a long moment and Brunnera seemed to be trying hard to hold his eye. Behind them the sun finally broke the horizon and Verin lifted a hand to sheild his eyes, only to realize a moment later that the firbolg had stepped over to block the sun and shield the drow from the light just a bit longer with his own shadow. 

"I would be honored to teach you. If you tell me about the blue dragon." Verin smiled genuinely, some lingering tension from the night before coming loose. His nose crinkled, making the pale scattering of white freckles over his dark skin stand out all the more.

Brunnera chuffed, holding out his large hand towards Verin. His palm up in offering. 

Verin clapped his hand down into Brunnera's palm, actually laughing softly when it was completely swallowed by the firbolg fighter's giant mitt. 

"Its an accord." Verin promised. "Now lets take care of that burn."

**Author's Note:**

> Brunnera has terrible luck with electricity weilding creatures. 
> 
> Originally none of what Brunnera went through while in the Aurora Watch was going to be a part of this series but MORE VERIN. MORE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. WHO DOESN'T WANT THAT 
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
